Soundtrek
by NarwhalsLoveDonuts
Summary: His powers manifested through music- flashes of light, color, movement, and sound. He barely lived in the same reality as the others. He couldn't be touched. Not by ordinary people. R&R, please.


**This is a more different story. It has its own music to go with the scenes. I highly suggest pulling up the tracks while you read. Of course, if you choose not to, it won't affect the story any, though listening may put you in the right state of mind to understand the feelings better.**

**I do not own the music, or X-Men in any fathomable way; I own only the character known as "Soundtrek".**

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**Scene 1: "Midnight Harvest" by artist: Unicorn Kid**

A flash of movement blurred by the insanity of color- a rush caught in a warped spectrum of turmoil- a frenzied charge that tore through naked space. He was untouchable, his feet barely grazing the monotony of concrete; there was no way he wanted any part of the mundane any longer. Why slip numbingly through existence as a snuffling, ignorant pig when you were designed with the gifts to become a god? Gods would never drag their way over a grey landscape and be content to live the rest of their lives with simpletons who lived to survive the next moment, would they? No, a god would surround himself with beauty and passion, using his abilities for whatever he would choose, good or otherwise. A god would live above and beyond the fickleness of the ordinary and soar to heights mere mortals would never even dare to dream of. Normality: he would have none of it.

Black softness, the padding of headphones formed a vice on his temples and covered his ears, blocking out every other sound except the orgasmic bliss of synthetic, pulsating sound. His black hair whipped wildly in the wind, brown eyes sparking to amber and back to chocolate caused by the frantic notes infiltrating his brain, the neurons firing, dancing along his skull and churning their way through the rest of his body as he soared through the city on fleet feet. Red, blue, white, fluorescent and neon lights through the velvet darkness of dusk were tracks of color rushing by his vision as he jumped and ran, faster, faster, straining to push his limits. He shrieked out a wild laugh as he lightly bounced off a wall, which colored with a footprint of dark rainbow, much like gasoline transparent on the hard bricks, slowly fading back as he darted away to the top of the next building, flying on the sensation of sound.

Why use the temporary high of the disgusting drugs those petty insects used, their pleasure always fleeting and leaving a maddening craving for another hit, when all he had to do was click the "repeat" button on his music player? He thrived on the brink of death- leaping on the translucent paths left by his desire for a landing point as he hurdled from one place to another, his feet never daring to touch the ground. He never wanted to stop, not while the music seared his elated mind. This was what kept him airborne; this was his definition of sanity; this is what made him untouchable; and that was the way he intended to keep it. He was a god.

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Logan's motorcycle could only go so fast to keep up with this sky demon. Trying to maneuver while keeping an eye on the leaping boy while maintaining constant speed _and_ making sure he was still on the road to follow was one hell of a task. He grunted as the brief sound of static rumbled through his earpiece. The voice of Scott Summers filled his right ear.

"Cyclops to Wolverine, do you copy?"

"You can drop the super secret mission shit, Scott. Yeah, I hear ya'."

Scott had apparently decided to ignore the crack and continued unfazed. "Professor Xavier's request is to take this one in unharmed. He's not dangerous, but he's been causing problems around the city for a while now. Graffiti, petty theft, destruction of property, frightening civilians… no major charges claimed on him, but he's being a menace and drawing attention to himself."

"That's for sure," Logan mumbled in awe with his eyebrows set high on his forehead as he caught a glimpse of the boy in question as he skated through the air on a shimmering, see-through ribbon of _something_ and looped a flip before making a sharp turn to the left. Logan jerked his bike in that direction hardly noticing the blaring horns of oncoming traffic as he kept sight of his target.

"In the meantime," Scott barked, obviously hearing the screeching of brakes over Logan's intercom, "don't draw attention to _yourself,_ eith-"

"Yeah yeah," Logan drawled, clicking the button the offending device to silence the Cyclops on the other side. Normally, since the target was airborne, Charles would have sent Storm since she would have had the advantage, being able to fly and all, but she and Kurt were on a mission together in Michigan, apparently trying to persuade some hard-ass parents that their newly discovered mutant twins would be safer at the institute than locked away fearfully in the house.

_Concentrate_. He breathed deeply. He had been following for some time now, and he finally had him in position; the moment he had been waiting for: the kid had turned to skate over the top of a narrow alley, abandoned and hidden from view of other prying eyes. Logan revved his engine and concentrated hard as he applied pressure to the gas and turned after him, focused only on the boy in the air and his task at hand. Rusted fire escapes and fleeting lights on the blank canvas of darkness screamed past him as he sped up, now nearly underneath his target. While barreling underneath and past him, he couldn't help but notice the massive pair of headphones clamped on the boys head as he continued his assault on the city, oblivious to the threat rumbling loudly below. With one final thrust of muscle, Logan's bike powered forward. He jerked the handlebars, a horrendous scraping sound as the faithful motorcycle skidded across asphalt, and jumped on powerfully trained legs into the air to come face to face the sky-walker.

First to come into view was the look of absolute shock in the untamed mess of cocoa and gold that swirled like twin cyclones. Next was the horror of falling as flashing metal claws tore the muted iridescent path he had been sliding upon. With one last dying glimmer, the airway flickered out, causing a mad panic to seize the boy as he dropped, no longer in sync with his music.

A crash and a shattering sound broke the quiet of the night, the Wolverine making an agile landing on one knee, one palm on the ground, the other stuck out for a balance, claws still unsheathed from his knuckles. He turned to glance behind at the fallen figure, the boy's eyes flashing different angry, accusing colors and eyelids fluttering helplessly. The headphones had been ripped from his ears, and lay in an unceremonious heap along with the shattered remains of a music player that wept shiny tears over the splinters of a lifeless CD.

The mighty god had finally fallen.

**/end music.**

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**Questions, comments, and/or reviews? I love this story, but I plan for it to be short, maybe 5 chapters? Anyhow, I'd love to hear what you think and am willing to clear up any confusion you may have. Cheers, readers.**


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